


Frustration

by 401



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bucky Barnes Feels, Combat, Fighting, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Neck Kissing, Rough Kissing, Sparring, Training, bucky's got a boner, sorry - Freeform, steve rogers - Freeform, supressed sexuality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-08
Updated: 2015-12-08
Packaged: 2018-05-05 16:27:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5382104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/401/pseuds/401
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky can't straighten out his emotions, he needs some practice. Combat practice.</p><p>Steve just looks so damn good.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Frustration

Bucky could watch Steve train for hours.

It was so different from the way he trained, the way he moved and the way he fought. It fascinated him and riled him all at the same time. It was frustrating to watch him move so fluidly, calm and focused whilst still retaining so much power through his movements. He seemed lighter, jumping and manipulating his form like he weighed 120 pounds rather than 250.

It was frustrating because it was something that Bucky felt like he would never achieve. His fighting style started out with efficiency and silence, more deadly than Steve, more calculated. But after some time, the memories ruled his limbs and anger fuelled his motion. This was why he never sparred with Steve. He would fight with Stark in the suit and Natasha if she had combat weapons with her (katana simulators or choke wire usually), but never Steve. He had a habit of letting the frustration get a hold of him with Steve. He was unsure of why, but the anger was so much rawer with the Captain than with anyone else.

Steve’s shield made a reverberating echo as it hit one of the concrete walls makeshift gym the pair had constructed in the basement of the house they now shared. Bucky was sitting cross-legged on the futon that was pushed up against the wall of the basement. He slept down there occasionally; no traffic noise, less nightmares. His bedroom upstairs looked out onto the main road. Steve had offered to swap countless times but Bucky refused every time.

“You wanna join me?” Steve caught his shield and turned to Bucky, chest rising and falling heavily with exertion.

Bucky shook his head, smiling and gesturing for Steve to keep training.

Steve sighed and crossed the distance between them and patted Bucky’s shoulder, the flesh one, rubbing firmly enough that the brunet swayed against the touch. The heat of Steve’s hand was obvious, even with a t-shirt between them. Bucky’s heart rate picked up and his palms grew damp.

“Please,” Steve sat next to Bucky on the futon, “I _never_ get a proper challenge sparring.”

Bucky went to protest but Steve got there first.

“And no, Tony’s red and gold monstrosity does not count,” He interrupted, squeezing Bucky’s knee affectionately.

Bucky’s heart sped up further. It felt good, too good. It felt like it was hitting every nerve in his body with a wash of heat. The same frustration that clouded every combat session he tried with Steve bubbled through him, making his cheeks flare hot and red.

“What’s going on?” Steve asked, moving his hand up and down Bucky’s thigh absently.

Bucky dropped his eyes so that his hair dropped too, shielding his face.

“You love sparring with Natasha,” Steve proposed, “It would be even better, you’d get a better challenge with me, I can…. handle you better.”

Bucky’s cheeks coloured further as he felt the crotch of his jeans tighten uncomfortably and unexpectedly. The frustration got deeper and stronger, but it sat in his stomach in a way that anger never did. It coiled through him and warmed him, rather than burning like a scream in his chest the way rage would. The thought about something the Dr Banner had told him months before:

_“All you’ve ever known is anger and pain, happiness scares you. It makes sense that you feel_

_angry all the time; your body turns all of the good feelings into anger so you can cope. You are ‘anger compatible’”_

Bucky closed his eyes, shoving the memory to the back of his mind and shifting away from Steve’s touch. This was not anger. It was desire.

“Fine,” Bucky stood up, softening hid tone when it came out too harsh, “Fine, lets spar.”

Steve smiled and stood with Bucky before crossing the room and setting his stance, facing Bucky with his feet planted firmly, the shield poised in front of him.

“Drop it,” Bucky ordered, “Want to fight Steve Rogers, not Captain America.”

Steve stared at Bucky for a few moments before grinning and shrugging, sliding the shield to the corner of the room and beckoning Bucky forward. Bucky ran forwards, utilising the small space fully by jumping before Steve could grab him, swinging upwards on the exposed ceiling beams and wrapping his thighs around the Captain’s shoulders and tacking him to the ground and sitting on his chest.

Steve grunted with the force and grabbed Bucky’s right arm and twisted it behind his back so that he could tackle the metal one fully and get the soldier off of his chest. Metal finger’s tightened in his hair, immobilising him further. This was more of a challenge than he had been expecting.

The Captain drew up his knees and pulled Bucky closer before knocking the air out of him by extending his legs sharply and flipping Bucky onto his back. Their roles were swapped, Steve sitting on top of Bucky now with his arms pinned to the concrete floor.

“Touché,” Bucky growled breathlessly as Steve dug his knees into his hips.

Bucky’s fingers twitched against the concrete, cueing Steve to release his hands.

“Let go, Steve,” Bucky shifted awkwardly against the friction of Steve’s weight against his hips.

The betraying heat crawled up Bucky’s cheeks again. Steve smiled mischievously and locked his knees in place and anchored Bucky against the floor more firmly, his smile widening as a strangled moan of supressed pleasure escaped Bucky’s lips. Steve leant forward so that his lips brushed Bucky’s ear.

“You like that?” Steve asked, dropping his voice low and hoarse. Bucky could hear surprise under the depth and arousal.

Bucky set his jaw and stayed silent, letting Steve’s fingertips trail down his arms in smooth ghosting movements.

“Yeah,” Bucky finally whispered out, “That’s…that’s good.”

Steve made a small sound of satisfaction in the back of his throat before taking his lips to Bucky’s neck keenly, sucking a small patch of red into the soft skin and letting his breath ghost.

“Never told me that,” Steve mumbled so matter-of-factly, Bucky could almost hear a shrug in his voice.

“Never knew how,” Bucky sighed, running his hands up Steve’s back before closing his eyes and letting the Captain take control.

 

 

 


End file.
